Maserati Ride
by Fanless
Summary: Rated Older Teen for safety and suggestive themes: Apollo needs a new romantic challenge, and a taste of Seaweed might be just the tonic he's been seeking. Apollo/Percy.
1. When 'Pollo Met Percy

_Especially_ for _**Starrysnow**_, whose fault it was; the very first APORCY (Apollo/Percy) fanfiction! I shall never be the same. Sorry I didn't use the quote; it turned out too funny for what I feel is a rather somber quote.

* * *

Rated Older Teen, for safety. I have forgotten who wrote "Magic Carpet Ride", but it wasn't me. It's in one of the Star Trek movies, if that helps. Fire that baby up, Zefram Cochrane!

* * *

Apollo is bored.

You wouldn't expect someone like him to be bored, would you? A god, forever young and fabulous, in charge of _literally_ lighting up all the lives on little old planet Earth? Men who are undeniably every kind of desirable (including _smexi_, _sexeh_ and sometimes even _sexxii_), not to mention as awesome as the powers of awesomeness can stretch around one perfectly sculpted form are not supposed to be _bored_.

But Apollo is.

And he knows why.

He's run out of seducees.

The Hunters are offlimits. He's done most of the minor godlettes-- godettes? Godarinas? What in Hades does one call female godlings, anyway?-- on Olympus (in more ways than one, hur hur); most of the actual goddesses are taken, and ew, they're all like his aunts and crap. Nymphs? _So_ passé.

Apollo needs a new challenge.

And as he cruises along minding his own one day he spots something that makes his eyebrows ascend and his head ring with the shock that he hadn't thought of it before, and he cracks his knuckles before he throws the Maserati into a dive that would've left the average mortal hairless, skinless and shitless and screams into, then across, the ground right in front of his quarry, because he's just found it.

A challenge.

* * *

"_Per-_cy _Jack-_son. Percy, Percy, Percy. Have _I_ got a quest for _you_."

Percy's face registers confusion. It's a pretty face, Apollo decides, with just the right balance of masculine line and wide-eyed cluelessness. "Uh... hi, Lord Apollo. A quest? For me? What is it?"

"That would be telling!" Apollo says gleefully, dragging Percy to the Maserati. Sure, he could say "I need a mortal companion to break a geas I've been placed under: namely, the compulsion to _tap that ass_!", but would Percy go for it? He thinks not. The kid's never exactly struck him as a bi-curious type, or even a particularly interested-in-sex type.

Which makes him such a challenge.

"Hey, wait," Percy protests, digging his heels in. "Not that I don't want to help or anything, but Annabeth is kinda waiting for me..."

Annabeth! Damn, Apollo forgot all about her. She's not bad either, come to think of it... _Whoa, boy. Stay on target_. "Ah, she'll understand. Women are good at understanding stuff." True, but not true. Depends. "I'll send her a message, OK?"

Percy relaxes. "Yeah, okay."

Yes! Score! Well, not yet, but almost there. Apollo plops Percy down in the shotgun seat and swings himself in, gunning the engine. As they do so often, an appropriate song suggests itself, and he starts humming to himself.

_Why don't you come with me, little boy,  
on a magic carpet-- er--_ Maserati _ride..._

"Strap in, Percy. We're headed to Delphi."

"Delphi? Where your Oracle used to be? What's there?"

"Ambience."

Percy looks alarmed. "Someone's hurt?"

Apollo squeezes the bridge of his nose. Cute, but a little embarrassing. "I said _ambience_, buddy. Not _ambulance_."

"Uh, sorry." Percy snuggles down in the seat. "Man. I've never been in one of these before, but I've loved them for like forever. The Spyder's an amazing car."

"Only the best," Apollo says cheerfully, pouring on the gas. They're almost to Delphi already. Nice secluded place, Delphi; not like Olympus. Himself, no. Olympus is so crowded it's a stroke of luck when you find an unoccupied patch of marble to spit. No, it's not the best place for a seduction; gossip travels faster than Hermes there, and sometimes with Hermes as well.

Poseidon wouldn't be pleased about this. That's why it has to be a secret.

He has to remember to tell Percy this.

He opens his mouth, but his chariot of thought gets overturned halfway to his larynx due to the fact that the sun is glittering over Percy's golden skin, glistening through his onyx hair, piercing those sea-green eyes with beams of the most brilliant...

"Have you ever danced on the shores of the Aegean by starlight?"

"Huh?"

"Here we are!" Apollo says hurriedly, touching down gently behind a monolith.

* * *

"I can't."

Apollo stares. He can't remember the last time someone refused him like that. Actually, yeah he can, it was that girl in Jersey, the one with the hair, but that's beside the point.

The point is that he led _very carefully_ up to this, he put every bit of bedroom (backseat, closet, couch, what have you) expertise he possessed into concocting a routine that _could not possibly fail..._

...and it's failing.

Like _bam_. Instant failure.

"Aren't you even a little bit curious?" he says pathetically, well aware that he is being pathetic. It makes his stomach curl up like calamari legs.

Percy reddens. "It's not that. It's just, um... well, you know me and Annabeth, we, well..."

Apollo sighs, tries really, really hard not to roll his eyes. He manages to stop them halfway up.

"We've been having some problems lately. I was on my way to meet her and apologize, and I really don't think that this is the right time. I wouldn't feel right."

Well, it wasn't an outright "Never in the future of ever". Apollo decides to be sympathetic.

"You can tell me about it," he purrs, wrapping an arm around Percy's just-wide-enough shoulders and slinging a leg over the kid's lap.

Sympathetic with maybe just a little bit of hidden agenda going on there.

"Um... it's really weird." Percy remembers who he's talking to and amends. "Actually, you probably wouldn't think it was that weird, but it's awkward. For me."

"Look, kid, I've been from one side of this galaxy to the other. You won't shock me." Probably.

"Well, I've actually been seeing someone else." Percy fidgets.

"And?" A little surprising, considering who they were talking about, but whatever. Happens to the best of us.

"It's a guy."

OK. Also kind of surprising, but whatever. Happens to the best of us. "Wow. Do I get to hear who it is?"

"Well..."

Aha! Playing coy! Apollo is past master at the whole coy thing, giving _and_ receiving! "Come on," he teases, flexing his fingers into claws. "Tell Uncle Apollo or suffer the Tickle of Doom!"

"Uncle? Aren't you more technically a cousin or something?"

Apollo pauses. "Geez, I forget. Let's see... Zeus is my father; Thalia's my half-sister; Poseidon is my uncle, so... cousins, yeah." He beams, proud of himself, then pauses again. "Hey! Quit stalling!"

"Sorry."

"Talk, or-- _tickle_!"

"_Okay_!" Percy avoids Apollo's grab. Never mind what he was aiming for. "It's-- oh. Uh oh. Oh, gods."

"What?" He's staring over Apollo's shoulder. Apollo takes the opportunity to "accidentally" lose his balance and rest his nose on the nape of Percy's neck. Percy smells good. Like Tide. And Ocean Breeze shampoo.

"Stop! Get off! I mean--" Percy remembers who he's talking to again. "Sorry. But the guy, the one I-- he's _right there_."

"Where?" Apollo turns.

"There. With the tour group."

Apollo's eyes follow Percy's shaking finger across the landscape of Delphi, past some ruins to a sunbaked gaggle of ooh-ahhing camera-laden tourists.

"_Him_?"

"Yeah."

Tall. Blond. Closely-cropped hair, white tee, camo pants...

"Oh, for My _sake_."

Scar down the side of his face.

"Oh, _no_."

The inhabitants of the Maserati sit in a brownish-gray silence for a few very long moments.

"You wanna go talk to him?"

"No. I mean, I'd like to, but I'd better n--"

"No, go ahead, I insist," Apollo says, maniacal grin beginning to fix itself. "I wouldn't want to stand in the way of young love!"

"That's not--"

Percy doesn't get to finish his sentence. Instead, he's dumped unceremoniously out of the Spyder and left coughing and blinded in the _BOOM_ of light and dust that heralds Apollo's departure.

Damndamndamndamn_damn_! That wonderful plan, all for nothing! And now he is left with nothing (-one) to do for the rest of the day and all this unresolved sexual tension. Or whatever you call it.

* * *

Roaring over the Continental United States, Apollo glares down half-heartedly to see what he can see.

And suddenly, what he can see is a pretty blonde girl with a ponytail full of curls, her gray eyes stormy, sitting on a park bench and pulling up dandelions by the roots.

"Stupid Percy," she mutters, wiping away furtive tears.

Hm. There's Annabeth.

All alone.

With no one to comfort her.

Hmmmmmm.

Suddenly, Apollo decides with a non-maniacal grin as he pushes up his sunglasses and eases the nose of the Maserati downwards, the day is looking a little bit _brighter_.

* * *

a/n

...and it all comes back to our favorite pairing, because Luke JUST HAPPENS TO BE IN DELPHI RIGHT THAT VERY MOMENT. Huzzah, Puke-- I just couldn't resist.

Also couldn't resist the Star Wars quote. If you can find it, you get to request a fic!

I would love to turn this into a series. Would you love to read a series?


	2. Apollo Pulls Some Strings

You asked for it. That's all I'm saying.

Not hilarious like the first, but integral to the story nonetheless. Here we can get rid of both Luke and Annabeth in one fell swoop!

* * *

Ch. II: Apollo Pulls A Few Strings

* * *

Percy looks for the numberless number of times at the postcard on his bedside table. No need to read it again. He knows the words like the face in the mirror.

Annabeth is leaving. Not as in "Mitch, I'm leaving you tomorrow", but going to study abroad. Germany. She'll be away for a year at least.

She said nothing about _them_. But Percy has a feeling she'll be leaving him behind in more ways than one.

Over the dresser, a face stares blankly back. It doesn't seem to know what to think either.

He picks up the phone.

* * *

Luke Castellan reaches for his phone, wishing he'd never left it alone with the Stoll twins. These days, whenever Percy's number rings, it does so to the tune of Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get It On", and while he always knows who was calling now it isn't exactly subtle. Besides, he thinks "Bad Romance" would probably be a better fit.

* * *

"You want me to do what?"

"It'll be easy," Apollo coaxes. "For a talented goddess like you."

"Of course it will." Aphrodite flips her hair with a calculated ease he envies. "I can make anyone fall in love with anything. But, sweetie, you haven't told me who you want him to fall in love _with_."

"That's because I don't care," Apollo murmurs, somewhere between a purr and a snarl. "Thalia. Some mortal girl. Some mortal _guy_. A rock. Whatever you think is best. I just want him away from Jackson."

Aphrodite purses her lips, making a moué. "Well, I'll see what comes up. But why break those two up? They have such a sweet little star-crossed forbidden-love-that-dares-not-speak-its-name thing going."

"Because," Apollo lies smoothly, "I've had a prophecy that says Percy will find someone even better than Luke soon, but only if he's single at the time. You want Percy to be happy, don't you?" He hasn't actually prophesied this. He's just determined it. Who could be better than a divine lover, namely he?

Aphrodite beams. "Of course! Well, in that case--"

She starts outlining a plan, pulling a blackboard from nowhere and sketching football-play-like diagrams. Apollo doesn't listen. His thoughts have turned sea-green.

* * *

"Gods_damn_!"

Luke stares helplessly over the edge of the bridge, watching his BlackBerry twinkle tantalizingly on its way down, still trailing Marvin Gaye. He shouldn't have been holding it so close to the rail, but it's too late to do anything about it now, not with all these mortals around. Someone might notice somehow, and he can always pickpocket a new one.

"I'm so sorry!" cries a voice. He turns, sees a caramel-colored girl with coffee-colored hair and a bulging green backpack, recognizes her vaguely as someone from camp.

She recognizes him too. Her eyes widen. "Luke?"

He has it now. Demeter cabin. Katie Gardner. "Yeah. Katie. Hi."

"Wow, what a surprise," she gushes. "I'm sorry about this backpack, it just gets in the way of everything, they wouldn't even let me on the subway with it and it's so heavy, it's got fertilizer in it, but it's okay 'cause I really needed some for this moonlace Percy gave me, oh I almost forgot-- are you okay? I kinda wonked you pretty hard."

Luke fights his way toward the surface of chatter, gasping. "Yeah. Fine."

"Good, good. You look okay. I mean, you look good! I mean... uh..." She blushes tawny. Uncomfortable, he fidgets; unused to the admiring glances of girls that used to be so de rigeur. Percy gets funny about that kind of thing.

Katie's looking pretty good herself, he notices. She's changed a lot since the last time he saw her. No more gangly, awkward duckling with green braces.

Then, as Katie blushes again, he realizes he's noticed it out loud.

"Yeah, I guess we haven't seen each other for a while. Hey-- I know a nice café called Java Moose around here; wanna go have a joe and catch up?"

Suddenly Luke can think of nothing he'd rather do.

* * *

"Nice job, babe. You're beautiful."

"That's my job."

* * *

Annabeth watches the New York airport drop away below her, feeling as if her troubles are doing the same. How compassionate Apollo was to suggest she get away for a while. He was great at setting up that architectural scholarship in Berlin, too.

* * *

The phone fizzes in Percy's ear and he hangs up. Again. Luke's number is out of order.

That's okay. He isn't so sure he was in the mood to talk to Luke, anyway.

Glancing up at the mirror, he makes a face and is alarmed when it suddenly makes another completely different face back.

"What the--!"

Well-toned arms catch him as he tumbles off the corner of the dresser he'd been perched on and whirl him around. Apollo.

"Oh my god!"

"Music to my ears," Apollo sighs. "Percy, I'd like to talk to you about the other day."

Percy shifts uneasily. "Oh. Um, I'm really sorry. You're not mad, are you?"

"Mad? No, no, my dear boy. Delighted. I like a guy who can hold on to his principles." Percy's phone rings. "You'd better get that."

Hesitantly, Percy does, checking the caller ID. Actually, he (Apollo flicks a finger) _accidentally _turns on the speakerphone first, _then _answers. "Hello? Luke?"

"Hi. Listen, Percy, I know I said I'd come over later, but something came up."

Luke sounds furtive. Percy's eyebrow rises. "Again? What is it this time, hellhounds?"

"Not this time. I'm really sorry, but it's, um, camp business."

" 'Um'? What's 'um'? Nothing should be 'um'."

"Percy--"

_"Luke?"_ can be clearly heard in the background. A girl's voice. _"Are you off the phone yet? We still have a few more places to hit!"_

The silence rings for a few seconds.

"Who's that?" Percy asks quietly.

"Camp business. Can I call you b--"

" 'Places to hit'?"

An irritated huff. "We're going shopping, okay?"

"Going shopping with girls is camp business?"

In the background, a laugh. _"Come on, cutie!"_

The silence booms.

"I'll call you back," Luke tries.

"You don't have to." Percy's voice sounds hollow, even to himself.

"No, really--"

"Don't bother." Percy hits the red button and stands there shaking.

"Should I go?" Apollo says innocently.

Percy turns, says nothing.

Apollo begins to think maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. He puts a comforting arm around the kid's shoulders and mutters, "There, there"-- or at least he starts to, but he doesn't finish because Percy turns again and grabs him, pulls his head down, not as far as Apollo would expect because Percy's taller than he thought, maybe not such a kid after all, and throws himself into a kiss with more possessiveness than passion, more passion than skill, and plenty of anger all around.

_Whoa_.

Didn't see _that _coming.

"That's what you wanted, isn't it?" Percy growls, lips still rasping the god's. "Me? So you pulled some strings? Made us dance?"

"I wouldn't say that," Apollo mumbles. He's thrown off. He's not used to the feeling. It's not particularly enjoyable.

"Did you make them fall in love with each other?"

"Nope. Swear on the River Styx." And it's true. Aphrodite did that part for him. Percy glares; Apollo gulps. He's used to being in charge, and right now he's feeling so wobbly and warm and confused that he begins to consider materializing into a puddle of jelly.

"Fine. But even if you did, you know what, Lord Apollo? I don't think I care. Because right now I'm disappointed, I'm pissed off, I'm frustrated, I'm gonna be really fucking _lonely _if I don't do something I'll probably regret later--"

Apollo raises a hand. "Would this something you'll probably regret later involve fucking me until my earwax melts?"

Percy stares. "Ew. That's gross, Lord Apollo."

"But would it?"

"Sure. Why not."

* * *

Later, much later, after the sheets are straightened and Mrs. Jackson is home from work, Percy is alone. He looks in the mirror and sees the lover of a god.

Or tries to, anyway. He has the feeling those beloved of the divine don't usually look so red and rumpled. Neither, he is willing to bet, do they wear White Stripes tees or striped boxers.

But the goofy dazed half-grin looks about right.

* * *

a/n

Funny will return in next chapter. Promise.

I couldn't think of anyone for Luke except Katie (physical description totally fabricated), but IRL my brother and I ship Nico/Katie. Don't ask :P

Also, paraphrased "Independence Day" quote. Find it and I'll slip you into the next chapter.


	3. Percy Doesn't Get Turned Into A Veggie

Thanks to all you reviewers out there! I can't believe anyone actually likes this. I was expecting loads of flames. Many thanks for confounding my expectations! With that said, let me clear something up before anyone gets disappointed:

This isn't going to be superlemon. I'm sure many of you enjoy roaringly explicit-- er, I mean X-rated-- no, I mean-- hell, I mean what I mean. Porno. Well, I'm sure I could write that even though I've never tried and get plenty of readers, but I'm not going to, for very selfish reasons. Partly because I think there's enough of that stuff out there as it is and that honestly it's a bit embarrassing to read, but mostly because I personally find hintings and veiled allusions sexier than cocks-all-the-way and I'm the one writing this. If you haven't the patience for connecting your own dots, this may not be the fic for you.

That said....

* * *

Ch. III: Percy Doesn't Get Turned Into A Vegetable

* * *

When Apollo pulls up outside Percy's window, it is half an hour before sunrise is set to begin. He figures he could spend that long at least just watching the guy sleep, but people would get mad at him. They wouldn't understand the adorableness of the way Percy's nose wrinkles when he breathes, or the way his hair gets all sticky-uppy because sometimes he gets his head stuck under the pillow and Apollo has to take the pillow away because really, it would kind of suck if his young lover suffocated before they'd actually consummated (because Sally'd come home last night just as things were getting ear-lickin' good; no earwax-melting had as yet occurred, which was okay in relation to the earlicks, because _ew_, Apollo _hates _the taste of earwax)-- which was totally the point, no?-- or even the way he lurches into a sitting position, screaming over nightmares. _So_ cute.

Apollo wishes Percy were screaming for him instead.

But there'll be time enough for that later. They have a planet to light up. He beams at his panicky paramour. "Good morning, Percy! Let's go for a _spin_. So we can _talk_. About _you_"-- meaningful eyebrow wiggle-- "And _me_."

"Apollo!" Percy stares, tousled, chest heaving. (Apollo swoons dramatically and almost falls off the windowsill.) "What's going on? What're you doing here?" He pauses, suspicious. "You haven't been there all night, have you?"

"Do I look like a vampire to you?" He'd taken a break to go pick up the Maserati around 4:45.

"Psh. No." Percy smiles, a mixture of snide and shy which makes Apollo's backbone momentarily into jelly. "You look better."

There is nothing the god of the sun would like better than to leap onto the bed right now and smother that infuriating, intoxicating boy with nibbles.

So he does.

"Hey! _Hey_!" Percy flails, the heat of his blush immediate against Apollo's face. "My mom's in the other room making breakfast! Don't--"

"She is? Excellent!" Apollo leaps up and makes for the door. "Then I can ask her for your hand in civil union!" He knows it's not quite the right phrase, but "ask her for your cock in five different kinds of living in sin" just didn't have the grand old ring to it.

Percy splutters and lunges after him, trailing sheets. "_No_! I mean-- please don't say anything about us. She thinks Annabeth and me are practically married. She doesn't know about Luke or anything."

Apollo sneers, but considerately. "A backstabbing player like him? Well, _bluh_."

"It's _'duh'_."

"But I like 'bluh' better. It's more 'blah'-like." _Smack_.

"Just don't go out there, okay?"

"Whyever not, radiant radiance?" _Smack_.

"Mph-- quit trying to distract me with kissing! She'll freak if she hears us!"

"So quit yelling, then."

"I'M NOT YELLING!"

"Percy?" Mrs. Jackson knocks on the door. "Is everything all right in there?"

Before Percy can reply, Apollo swings open the door. "Hello, Percy's mother! Obviously, I'm Apollo, Lord of the Sun, so it's totally fine if I'm here, right?"

She blinks. "Well-- yes. Of course. May I offer you breakfast?"

"I may be able to grab something on the run," Apollo says with a private leer for Percy's benefit. "I've come to ask permission to take Percy--"

--_Oh, gods_, Percy thinks--

"-- with me in the sun chariot today for some company," the god finishes innocently. "Percy, I'm sure your mother doesn't appreciate you rolling on the floor clutching your skull like that."

* * *

Breakfast is a hurried affair. Mrs. Jackson has to get to work, but she still has time to lay out a few waffles and be courteous. Apollo peers at them keenly and asks why they are blue. Percy groans inwardly, but Mrs. Jackson doesn't seem to mind a bit; she tells them the story in the same engaging manner she used to tell Percy bedtime stories so many years ago, even though she's on her way out the door.

"I like your mother," Apollo tells Percy thousands of feet in the air. "I can see why old Unky chose her."

"Mm." Percy isn't really paying attention. He's looking at the sun god and thinking how different he is from Luke, even though they look so much alike. Apollo's happy. He's playful. He's... sunny.

Sunrise is over. Apollo's got some time to kill, so he parks on the White Cliffs of Dover, the king of all Make-Out Points, but Percy keeps dodging the issue.

"Quit _dodging_!" Apollo whines from the floor of the Maserati, where he'd landed after Percy dove for the safety of the hood for the third time.

Percy huffs in front of the windshield, breathless. "You haven't listened to a thing I said! Every time I open my mouth you try to _stick _something in it."

"I thought you liked biscotti. That's why I brought them for you."

"Who told you that?"

"Nobody. I see and know all, remember?"

Percy realizes the conversation is getting off track. He decides to get to the point. There's water below them, after all, so he can jump if Apollo starts slinging balls of fire or curses at him. "Look, Lord Apollo-- sir--- oh, whatever. I'm honored that you like me and, uh, want me and stuff, but I've heard all the stories. I know how you had Aphrodite shoot that princess Coronis; I know about Cassandra and Daphne and all those other people in the myths. And about how they usually had something bad happen to them because they got involved with you. Now, you can turn me into a frog or whatever..."

Apollo has propped himself up on one elbow on the floor. He's listening with a cultivated air of nonchalance. Percy can only guess what he's thinking. With great difficulty, because Apollo slides his shades down his perfectly straight nose and serves him up a come-the-hell-hither-right-now-and-I-do-mean-_come _look.

"Okay, see, that's what I'm talking about," Percy manages, even though his throat has miraculously morphed into spaghetti. "You're not fair to your lovers. You never have been. All you do is treat them like... like purse puppies, then as soon as they show some kind of initiative you zap them with a laurel-tree ray or dump crazy visions on them for the rest of their miserable lives. Apollo, just because you're a god doesn't mean you can do whatever you want--"

"Actually, it kind of does--" Apollo puts in with a smirk.

"Well, yeah, okay, that's true. But what I'm getting at is, it doesn't mean you _should_."

A pause. Apollo actually seems to be thinking this over. Percy takes his cue. "I'm sure you're a great guy to be with. But the fact of the matter is, you've made a lot of people unhappy. I don't want to be another one." _Especially after all I've already been through._

Apollo bites his lip; Percy wonders if the god's aware of just how arousing the motion is, then decides he doesn't want to know. "Hmm. So what are you saying?"

Here goes. Percy squares his shoulders. "I'm saying consider that I've got my own feelings and my own thoughts. I'm saying if you care for me, you can't disappear for ages then lavish me with attention and think that makes everything okay, because it doesn't. I'm saying there's more to life than endless sex, and don't even try to play the all-powerful card with me because this isn't the B.C.'s any more and mortals are a lot less gullible now."

Apollo whistles, climbing onto the hood in front of Percy. "Have you been reading those healthy-self-esteem-and-codependence books?"

Percy looks shifty. "Annabeth gave me one a couple weeks ago. I think it was kind of a hint."

Another silence. This one is longer.

"Anything else you want to get off your chest?"

"Yeah. You."

Apollo gives Percy a little more personal space. Not that much more, but enough to make a difference.

"Anything else?"

"Well... Basically, I'm saying treat me like how you'd want to be treated if I were the god and you were the mortal." That shouldn't be too hard to understand.

Slowly, Apollo nods. He really looks like he's thinking. "Okay. Awright. How about we draw up a contract, then? You don't waste your time with anyone else unless you can prove to me they're more important to you than me, and I'll do the same."

"You take your brain out of your pants once in a while, because even teenage guys think about other things than sex once in a while, and I promise I won't be a prude even though I'm pathetically inexperienced."

Apollo stares. "What, you mean like nothing? Ever? What about with Mister I'm-So-Troubled?"

Percy turns redder than the Maserati. "Um. No. We were more of a be-emo-together couple."

Ah. One of _those_. "What about with A--"

"No, okay? No!" Percy's obviously very sensitive about this. Naturally Apollo doesn't notice.

"Not even a b---"

"No!"

"Or a h---"

_"No!"_

Apollo shakes his head. "We're gonna have to remedy that. On your terms!" he adds hastily, catching Percy's eye. "Because I am nothing if not a progressive and modern-thinking god!"

"Sure. Your turn."

"You promise not to get yourself killed."

"You promise to protect me."

"You promise to listen to my haiku, because nobody else does. I can't hide from it any longer."

"You promise to be a buddy, not just a lover. And to at least pretend to be nice about it when I get wimpy, because I've just been through a really smart girl who needed me to be more talented than I'll ever be _and _a really tough guy who needed me to be stronger than I'll ever be, and I'm ready to be the chick for a while."

"You promise not to tell anyone about this unless I say so," they say at the same time, then chuckle.

Apollo is greatly amused by this. This game is fun! More fun than he ever had with the nymphs and Greek girls! He's more challenged than ever. He barely even blinks when Percy demands, "Swear on the River Styx?"

"I'll do better than that." He gathers his new prize into his arms. "I swear," as his mouth finds Percy's, "on the River _Lips_."

* * *

Of course, Percy makes him swear the real oath and almost clocks him one when he keeps pretending to mess it up. But it was still a good line to end the conversation with.

* * *

a/n

You just know things are going to go all fruity... er, I mean pear-shaped. How long do you think they'll keep it up before someone finds out?

Also, I apologize for the lack of hysterically amusing bits. And I'll go back and add in the chapter titles later.


	4. Let's Keep Falling

This one took _much _longer than usual, mostly because I just wasn't in the mood (and also because my computer erased it once). But I owe my readers plenty, so here goes. It's short, sorry.

* * *

Ch. IV:

Let's Keep Falling

* * *

The sun-soaked days go by, each one seeming a wonderful lifetime. Percy is happier than he can remember being in ages. They go for joyrides in the Maserati, and sometimes throw random crap over the sides.

Being with Apollo is easy, easier than it ever was being with Annabeth or Luke. He doesn't have to be smart, or strong, or anything he doesn't think he is but everyone else seems to see in him. It's just having fun and messing around. Apollo is like the kind of buddy he's never really had, another brother, and a make-out partner all in one. Which, admittedly, sounds a little gross. But it's not.

And admittedly he never really thought he'd be so _into _a guy. He wasn't really ever into Luke, he realizes. Not in the way he finds himself now, the roots reaching deeper and deeper through his veins; it's an addiction, a sugary-glowing one, but an addiction all the same, fed every time he runs his hands along the eldritch planes of his god's torso and every time his feet lift off the ground, defying Zeus.

He never wants to get off this ride.


	5. Better Start Worrying

Hello! Does anyone remember me? I know it's been a long time since I've updated this. A long, long, long time.

To be honest, I was considering putting all my fics on hiatus. Looking back over all these enthusiastic reviews, though, made me realize that there was no way I could abandon all of you who wrote "Write more!" and are probably checking their alerts every time they log on to see if that darned Fanless has updated her Apollo/Percy story yet. Especially the ones left on New Year's Eve. Those surprised me.

You guys shamed me into resolving this year to be faithful to my fanfictions. Thank you, from the bottom of my pencil holder.

* * *

Ch. V: 

Better Start Worrying

* * *

"Percy, I want you to be straight with me."

Percy sits up, raising his head from Apollo's stomach, and gives him a Look.

"What did I s - oh. Right." The god snorts. "No, that'd be boring."

"And, uh, maybe kind of impossible."

"That too. _- Hey!_ You're distracting me again!"

Percy tries not to laugh. He drops gently back down and gazes up into the summer night sky. It's clear tonight, clearer than it ever is in New York - they're down at Delphi again, draped over the hood of the Maserati. Artemis' moon beams down on them with its delicate light. He wonders if she can see them now, and if she can, what she thinks of it.

He's not sure he likes the idea entirely. But then, he kind of wishes someone would see them. Being with Apollo - well, it's amazing. Keeping it secret is like finding a million dollars - no, three million - lying in the street and keeping that secret: it's not easy, and it's not fun. But telling about this kind of relationship is never a good idea. The list of failed predecessors stretches back almost as far as the gods.

Typical. For the first time in his life he's got the perfect relationship, and he can't tell anyone.

"Like I was saying," Apollo continues determinedly. "Be honest, 'kay?"

"Okay." Percy is only half paying attention. The sun god's skin is always so warm.

"Did you tell anyone when you were seeing whatsisface?"

The fuzzy pinkness evaporates. "Luke? No way. Annabeth only found out because she, uh, saw us together."

Apollo looks keen. "Really? Was it messy?"

"Apollo, no! Geez! I told you, it wasn't like that. Well, okay, maybe we were making out." Percy's face burns. "Kind of."

"What kind of?" asks the god innocently. "Care to demonstrate?"

Percy punches him. Gently.

"Was it _this _kind of?" Apollo teases, pulling him higher so that their faces brush.

"Who's distracting who now?" mutters Percy, not minding much. Apollo smells nice. Like meadows and summer and music, if music had a smell. Luke just always smelled like Axe. "Anyway, it was a hush-hush thing. Like this."

"That's what I was getting at earlier!" Apollo lets go of Percy's face to snap his fingers and their skulls crack together. "Ow."

After the confusion and the snorts of laughter die down, the god continues. "Before I lose track again: I want you to tell your mother about me."

Percy's jaw drops. "What? No way! I mean- why?"

" 'Cause she's a nice lady, I like her pancakes and nice ladies who make good pancakes shouldn't be lied to. Remember how it felt when you found out she was keeping things from _you_? I'm the god of Prophecy, Percy. I know from deep dark secrets." Percy looks unconvinced. "Someone should know, don't you think? I'm damn proud of you, kid. Let me brag, at least, if you won't."

"The rest of the gods'll hear about it somehow," Percy mutters. "There's gonna be trouble..."

"Hey, remember who you're talking to! I can handle whatever they throw at us. Maybe literally. Possibly. Now promise."

"But..."

Apollo widens his eyes and lets himself glow a little.

"That's not fair!" barks Percy. "I hate the big shiny eyes!"

"Promise?"

Percy sighs. He'd sworn. Besides, it was really only fair. And if he doesn't do it Apollo will, and that just sounds like a really, really bad idea. "In a couple days."

"Tomorrow."

"What? Oh, fine. Tomorrow morning. But you have to come too."

"Don't I always?" Hands, slightly sunlight-dusted still in the dark, tracing his bones like the brush of a painter outlining a dream. "Of course, if you'd like to make me come _now _I'd be happy to oblige..."

"We're outside, Apollo."

"At midnight behind the Coliseum! What, you think someone's going to see us?"

* * *

_If they only knew,_ Aphrodite thinks, grinning over her mirror. She's no fool when it comes to romantic subterfuge; when Apollo asked her to break Percy and Luke up, she knew right away something had to be afoot. _Oh, Apollo, you rogue!_

"Won't _this _be interesting!" she says out loud to herself.

And catching the echo of the goddess's voice as it crosses the moonbeams that dapple Aphrodite's boudoir floor, Artemis thinks: _Won't _what _be interesting?_

* * *

Oh, a minor cliffhanger. How classy. Am I forgiven yet? Drop me a review. Let me know.


	6. Back and Forth

_Okay, _now _I'm just trying to annoy you all. (winks)_

**

* * *

**

Ch. VI: 

Back and Forth

* * *

_Warm skin against warmer glowing skin (literally glowing from within, like one of those egg-shaped lamps with feet, only much more pleasingly shaped), bare and soon to become barer. _

"I wonder what it could be," muses Artemis, stroking the head of her faithful doe.

_Eyes inches apart but barely seeing as lips take their far-from-first tastes of each other, then traveling. _

The nearest Hunter looks up from her soapstone carving. "Sorry, my lady?"

_Percy knows he should be nervous. _

Artemis smiles. "Oh, nothing in particular, Phoebe. I was simply thinking aloud, about something I overheard the other night. Aphrodite doing the same, apparently."

_But nothing that makes him feel as complete as this could possibly scare him. _

"Oh." Phoebe makes a face. "No disrespect or anything, Lady Artemis, but who cares about _her_?"

_It seems so right. _

"Ordinarily I would have nothing to do with any business of hers, of course." Artemis sounds as if she too would like to make a face, but dignity forbids. "But this may have import to me. She is deliberately concealing some secret from me."

_The breath between them is thick as Lethe water, hot and palpable and another barrier to be melted away._

"Maybe she's plotting to curse a Hunter with love." Phoebe looks disgusted. "I hope it's not _me_. Love changes you. I've seen girls who used to be my friends—"

_He'd swear the world had disappeared and nothing was holding their molecules together except each others' hands; clinging, reaching, burning._

"I wouldn't worry about it." Artemis' smile is a little more real this time. "I'm sure it's nothing to do with you. Most likely she's simply gloating because she knows I disapprove of nearly all her schemes. Who knows how the mind of Aphrodite works? Come, Phoebe, the moon will be making its way down the sky soon. We have much work to do."

_In the bedroom of an otherwise empty New York apartment, dawn at the stroke of midnight._


End file.
